Christmas Shadows
by Nameless Forest
Summary: Whether you believe in legends or not, they're still legends. To him, they were basically nothing but a fairytale. That is, until a very particular day he'd be sure to rememeber for the rest of his days. He'd be a fool not to believe in them when he more or less caught himself wanting to have one legend in particular with him. This isn't a fairytale and none yet knows the ending.


I'm not sure if this is for everyone or if you'll like it. It was written on a 'whim' as I just got started on it last night. It's basically inspired from all the great stories I've read and various photos and I tried to portray it in a Fate-ish way. Did I succeed? Pairing should be obvious. I'm all for it. Yes. I own nothing, (not Fate/Stay Night, or the characters. It belongs to the creators) apart from the obvious which is spoiler-ish (for the story, not for the manga or anything). I guess this can be qualified as AU? On with the story.

* * *

He wasn't one to believe in what we humans commonly refer to as 'ghosts'. Demons, monsters, abominations. It all boils down to one thing; they are unwanted. Needless, recent happenings in his life had proved him wrong, in theory atleast. Legends was a whole seperate issue. The world may just say to him, that he had to be blindfolded and without any of the five senses not to believe the legends. Especially, since it had been at his side for more days than he cared to count.

He guessed it was due to humans, who reduced legends to mere fairytales. Where the Princess meets her Prince and they live happily ever after – but not until the Prince has slayed a dozen ogre, a dragon and evil itself, manifested in a solid form. Previously, he'd say that legends itself as those portrayed in books, were just that, legends. Stories of people who craved something more in their dull lives.

_Recent events had proved him wrong._

And he refused to admit how much that embarrassed him. He believed in what he saw and could reach out for. Of course, people did believe in ghosts, even if they had no proof. He had to admit that plenty of the ghost stories globally held some truth. Problem was to figure out how much truth there was.

It was nothing like a awakening, like the snap of a finger, or like switching on the light. The world, or rather, the legends gave him little to no choice. Of course, like anyone other, it had confused him and he had no idea of what to think in the first few seconds. A lot of staring occurred, yes. Magic, too, was also a separate issue from ghosts and legends. Out of the three, magic was something he had firmly believed in all his years in this town.

He could just say 'forever', because he could hardly recall anything from his so-called past life before his adoptive father found him in the inferno that had claimed his biological family. It was not a matter, the family that is, he dwelt on or spent his time thinking about. Magic was like an arm or a leg for it, you aren't able to function properly. Though he had long remained an amateur, his belief in magic, it would be easier to move a mountain with your bare hands. He believed in magic. Right now, he had discovered that, like legends, there was more than one branch of magic.

There's supernatural magic, and something he'd like to call 'ordinary magic', even if it was so much more than that, and supernatural magic could not compare by a thousand years. He could imagine that a certain someone, or two - depending on how he'd look at it-, would have found him to be a sentimental and emotional moron. He couldn't blame them, after all, it was his ideals that got him into so much trouble. Trouble, they had to pull him out of on more than one occasion.

He'd guess that they would say something like this; _'I don't know why we bother and you should make an effort to untangle yourself from any mess you get yourself into.'_

He would agree that they were right and if he was allowed to say, he liked to think that he had improved, gotten stronger. Not a match for Berserker, obviously. To him, right now, it seemed like it had been one hundred years since the War broke out. But right now, that was not what was on his mind. Fighting, battle, death, he would not dwell on it right this moment.

* * *

Children are the very core of Christmas, as they can see the magic of it. As you grow up, Christmas won't be the same as it was when you were a child yourself. But whether you can see it or not, the Christmas magic are still there out there, somewhere. Perhaps the Christmas magic is only visible for the young. That is how it should be. Because adults are blind to the magic of the world, most of the time.

Magic and the supernatural, it's delicately woven into the everyday world. Some take it for granted, some ignore it and some embrace it. Today, or rather, tonight, he'd do that.

Embrace the magic. The magic that had entered his being, or his world was the kind of magic that could never be compared to magic he'd performed on the battlefield. Some say that without a white Christmas, it's no Christmas at all. He partially agreed, partially disagreed. But as he looked towards the windowglass, watching the white snow soundlessly falling from the heavens, illuminated by the soft glow of the street lamp, it was one of the things that aided the Christmas magic.

Snowflakes dancing, in a eternal dance, annual. In a way, it represented his current state. Falling to a state of absolute peace, letting the silence guide him. It was a welcome change, and he'd take it all. He wasn't known for taking the easy way out, something that a certain magus would agree on. And there was no place he'd rather be than right here. Right in the middle of the Christmas magic. Sometimes you have to look beyond the earthly possessions and embrace your miracles. The surroundings spoke of null and void, no decorations.

He had no need for them.

It's strange, how your entire life, your existence can change so drastically in a matter of mere hours, minutes. He'd say Amen to that, because that was just what had happened in his life. So, he got up, still dressed in his jacket that had provided little shelter from the cold. His brown leather shoes wet from the snow. To him, there was no higher form of magic than the sight his eyes would come to take in. Awaiting, something he had, something that she had, taken their time to wait for. After all, good things come to those who wait.

_They_ say.

His mind spinning like a spinning top, enough to cause him to turn dizzy.

Like an avalanche, his life was turned up side down. And the best part was that he wouldn't have it any other way.

The minutes that passed were spent in silence as he took another step to the rest of his life. His hair – it seemed that it never could make a decision between red or brown, because it was a blend of both, but more on the brown side, in his opinion anyway. So he arrived before the gray door with a plated number sign on it. The number meaning little, because his mind was completely focused, - and a tad bit, anxious – on the patient. If you call her that. After all, she was not suffering from any disease or a lethal illness. She'd be dismissed in a few days or whenever she felt up to it.

Knowing her, she'd be back on her feet tomorrow, wanting, arguing with the head doctor, to be dismissed from the hospital. It would be so very much like her. Causing him to chuckle.

Taking a deep breath – how foolish, for he was not afraid of her. It was more of a being anxious to 'meet' the rest of his life, kind of thing – he pushed down the doorhandle, his hand resting on it. Was that his hand trembling? Must be. He was not a coward, but how to prepare yourself for the rest of your life?

_"There's no way, just suck it up"._

That would be what Rin'd say. Taking her 'advice' he did that. But this was not about Rin, Archer or Fuji-nee or Archer. Not Illya either. This was about two people, who had pledged their love for another, to last through eternity. And to them, the clogwheels of eternity had just started turning.

* * *

Epilogue :

Like the first time he laid eyes upon her, her hair still held the same shade of pale blond hair. Although the traditional bun at the back of her head weren't there, it was still her. The same face, those eyes that he'd drown himself in. A peaceful smile on her light pink lips. Of course, it was all her. Just like he had come to know her during the War. Small differences, invisible to the naked eye that didn't know her. But he catched on anyway, noticing it right away. The tired eyes of hers, with the eyelids that threatened every so often to close on her. The faint purple bruises under her eyes, due to a lack of sleep and mostly, exhaustion that came naturally in the aftermath of this very process. He could hardly blame her.

For, he was, after all, partially to blame. She could very well blame him for why she was in the hospital in the first place. Examining him for a while, her voice hoarse.

''You're back, Shirou''.

There was no magic in the world that could compare to that of the tiny creature, or rather, person that had found its comfort in her arms. Some children are born with no hair to speak of, and some are born with an entire mop of soft hair.

The child that had nuzzled into her chest for the warmth and comfort had a thick mop of blond hair from what he could make out. The child itself was wrapped in a blanket and he couldn't make out the tiny the face since the position made that impossible unless he desired to break the peace that had conquered the situation.

_"I know that look on your face, Shirou. I'm going to be just fine. You don't have to worry yourself about it. I.., I mean, we're both just as fine as we can be. If I have worried you in any sort of way, I apologize.''_

With that, she gestured for him to come sit down beside her bed, she wasn't going to bite or scream at him for having her go through with such pain. ''I know you can look after yourself, but you've gotta be exhausted. The least I can do is worry for you. After all, I love you.'' His eyes traveled away from hers and rested upon the resting, or sleeping – he wasn't sure which – small child in her arms.

For the first time, he truly felt at a loss. A loss for words, really. He didn't underestimate her and just as expected, she sensed his uncertainty.

_''You won't hurt...''_ she trailed off, coming to realize that he had no clue. A tired smile played on her lips. _''That's right. I haven't even told you. Very well, Emiya Shirou. Will you let me have the honor of introducing you to your daughter?''_

* * *

Phew! I hope you like this oneshot. I think that dragging it out, would ruin it. I'll leave it to you to speculate the name of the daughter. Because, I don't really have one. I hope I have created a realistic portrayal of this kind of situation in life. Update - I have a name for the girl, but I'll let you ponder it. Not saying anything.


End file.
